Wrong upon wrong
by Setrus
Summary: You fear what you don't know, you hate what you fear. To be uncompromising is to be dangerous, both for your enemy and yourself. A short tale of Dalish/human relations. Violence, cruelty.


Dagen was angry.

Angry, hungry, grouchy and shamed.

Trudging through the damned forest he and his three buddies were in he stomped down every plant in his path, more then happy to share his frustration on the things whose thriving was a mockery of his own situation. The sun reached down through the large trees in great beams, making the grass shimmer warmly, a scene of peace and comfort, inviting you to relax.

Dagen saw nothing of it however, his grey eyes glued to the ground in front of him, mind on his misery.

It had all gone so well for him and his gang. With the bann and his men going off to fight the darkspawn...something Dagen found stupid since they'd only found _one_ nearby so far, which had already been dead, an arrow in its throat...he and his buddies had become the big dogs in the village.

No guards, none of the men of the council even, half the militia going with the bann and leaving the old men that could barely remember how to hold a weapon in the village....it had been _perfect_! Dagen had quickly led his gang into something of a rampage through the chantry, showing who was boss...and the others had folded after some initial resistance.

They had shown the elder who was the boss, throwing the old man into the well. They had taken the pies from lady Gohgen without even trying to hide it...and none had dared to protest.

They had been kings!

Then that fool cobbler's son had spoken up. _Oren_. Dagen grimaced at the name. He had confronted them, demanded that they stopped. _What_ _had_ _it_ _been_ _again_? _Oh_ _right_..._showing_ _that_ _stupid_ _Anna_ _that_ _she_ _shouldn't_ _spit_ _on_ _us_. Of course Dagen and his buddies had beaten the idiot to an inch of his life, showing everyone in the village that defiance would not be tolerated.

But then the idiot had done it again...when they had smashed some rakes from old farmer Stinson's...and they had beaten him up again. That time it had been different though, the others hadn't noticed it, but Dagen _had_, the hostility in the stares of the other villagers, the fear confronted by anger.

It had worried him.

So when the third time had come around he had decided that enough was enough, they would kick Oren's face in until none could recognise him, _none_ would dare to oppose them if they showed how much pain they could force upon those defying the gang's rule...

It hadn't worked out that way though, they had been forced to leave, to run away as the entire village pelted them with rocks and cursed at the four...and hailed that idiot as a _hero_ on top of it!

_Didn't even get time to pack anything_...Dagen grumbled, a hand coming down to his rumbling stomach.

So now they were in this forest that seemed to go on forever, their second day in it...and Dagen was seriously worried they would soon starve, the berries they had found so far were not nearly enough to sate their hunger.

"Can't believe this..." Lars, the man nearest Dagen, grumbled, echoing Dagen's thoughts. The giant of a man was as violent as he looked, and Dagen had always been worried there would be a fight over leadership between the two, but it had never happened...Lars preferred to follow.

"You're telling me..." Marshal muttered, the man was, as everyone in the gang, big, but not nearly Lars' or Dagen's size. "...can't we go back with clubs or something?"

A non-committal grunt from Tom came, the man as always not having anything to contribute to the conversation.

Dagen sighed as he stomped onwards. "I told you guys, there's forty of them and they won't back down, I'm not about to get us screwed over because of some pies and a few beatings...we'll find another village."

"In the forest?" Lars whined. "Couldn't we have taken another path?"

"I told you we can't risk having the bann's men find us, who knows what they'll do to us?" Dagen's argument made even himself shudder, the bann was a _weak_ man, known for _mercy_...but also adored his villagers, he would _not_ show Dagen and his fellow loafers much kindness.

So they trudged on in silence, all four wallowing in their frustration and growing fear of the future.

Until they heard a giggle.

Coming to a stop Dagen looked up with a frown, wondering if he'd actually heard a bird...only to hear another giggle just ahead of him, from behind one of the giant trees that the forest seemed rife with.

_People, people means money_..._and_ _food_! Grinning viciously Dagen instantly formed a plan and gestured for the others to crouch low and follow him.

The four stealthily made their way past the tree...and came to a stop.

The ground in the small clearing ahead of them was nearly flat, and devoid of much grass due to the many fist-sized rocks covering it. What drew Dagen's attention however was the couple on the other side of the clearing, even as he watched them a low whistle escaped Lars, making Dagen shoot him a glare.

The couple didn't hear them though, with the woman pressed up against a tree and the man pressed close it was a wonder to Dagen that even a giggle could escape her, judging by how eagerly the man was exploring her mouth. Both the man and woman wore some sort of leather armour that must have cost some money to fashion...the woman's was far smaller then the man's though, making Dagen's gaze linger in appreciation as he watched one of her bare legs wrap itself around the man's waist.

"This is stupid..." The woman managed as the man moved to kiss her neck. "Don't you have any discipline?"

The man smirked as he moved up to face her. "Hey, this was _your_ idea." He moved a hand up to the woman's brown hair, tucking it behind a decidedly pointed ear.

_Elves_. Dagen sighed. _Not much money there then_. _Bet they have food though, besides_..._we_ _need_ _some_ _entertainment after all that has happened_. Dagen glanced at the others, smiling tightly at them, knowing he would need to distract them before they further questioned his leadership. _This'll_ _do_.

"_Hunting_ was my idea, we're _not_ hunting." The woman replied with a frown of irritation, which was completely ruined when she moved forth to kiss the man again.

Dagen made a small gesture, ordering Lars and Tom to circle left as Marshal moved a little to the right. _Bah, as if it's needed, they won't notice us, sharp elven senses my ass_...

A small chuckle escaped the man as he leant back, smirking. "I _am_ hunting."

"_Really_?" The woman arched an eyebrow, hands around the man's waist as she returned the smirk in kind. "Prey usually run away you know..."

"It did once." The man cocked his head to the side. "Yet I don't think it will this time..."

_Right_, _forward_. Dagen and Marshall moved forward, slowly, crouched low behind the bushes.

"Maybe not..." The woman chuckled and moved to kiss the man again, only to stop. "...did you hear that?"

_Damn_...Dagen stopped.

"Don't hear anything..." The man moved to kiss the woman's neck again, drawing a small sigh from her.

_Forward_...

"No, really, don't you..." The woman's blue eyes darted away from the man...and focused right onto Dagen. "...gods!"

Suddenly everyone was moving. The woman pushing the baffled man aside as she leant down to reach for the bow and quiver laying against the tree behind her, Dagen and Marshal rushing forward....and then coming to a stop as the woman drew her bow, arrow aimed straight at Dagen's chest, a mere breath away from reaching her.

_Maker_ _no_...icy fear bore into Dagen's spine as he stared at the missile inches away from slamming into his chest, from killing him._ No, no, no, no_! _This_ _isn't_ _fair_! _It's just a damn elf_!_ She's not supposed to have a weapon_! He swallowed, his bladder nearly releasing its content at the realisation...

The elf's eyes narrowed at him, lips curling into a grimace of disgust. "_Shemlen_, what are filth like you doing here?"

Dagen opened his mouth, ready to answer anything, to _beg_, to _grovel_, _anything_ but have that arrow _kill_ him!

Then a rock slammed into the right side of the woman's head, making her stumble sideways and release her arrow, making Dagen yelp and jump in fright as the missile missed his chest with a hair's breath. Glancing to his left he saw Lars and Tom appear, the pair already hefting stones they'd picked from the ground, Lars smirking slightly at Dagen, making him frown._ I nearly died you idiot_!

He said nothing however, feeling oddly out of breath as he looked over at the woman before him, feeling...shocked. _I nearly died_...

A trickle of blood ran from the woman's temple now, her eyes darting between Dagen and the bow she held, a bow _without_ an arrow notched. Dagen's fear turned to anger at the sight. _I nearly died_!

A growl and he crossed the final distance, his swinging fist striking the elf in the head in the exact place the rock had and felling her. "You bitch!"

"Ethenia!" The man screamed, launching himself at Dagen...only to fall as Marshal's fist struck the man in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and dropping him onto all fours.

"Ywain..." The woman muttered, trying to roll over, only to cry out as Dagen's foot connected with her hip with a loud crunch.

"Fucking! Elven! Bitch!" Dagen kicked at each word, his foot finding the woman's stomach as she curled into a foetal position. _You nearly killed me_! He waved aside Lars and Tom as they approached. "Deal with the other one! This one is _mine_!" He punctuated the sentence with a fourth kick, this one striking the woman in the shin-bone.

They obeyed, more then willing to jump the elven man struggling to get up. Lars' foot hitting the man in the face and sending him onto his back even as Marshal stomped down on the man's ankle, creating a loud snap that made the elf howl. _Good_!

There was no thinking, no hesitation. There was only frustration, anger, fear, shame...and Dagen poured it all into his legs as he growling kicked the elf before him. Again and again the foot smashed into her, the hands held protectively over her chest and head quickly becoming covered with blood and bruises, as were her bare legs and stomach, the heavy kicks aimed at her stomach in particular eliciting gasps and coughs out of her that was like music to Dagen's angry mind.

Next to him the others worked on the man, the elf was too slow to cover his head from Tom's kick, making him go limp for far too long as the other two begun to rain kicks onto his chest, Lars in particular making bones crack under the leather armour.

"I'll teach you to aim a bow at me!" Dagen growled as he stopped kicking, watching the bloodied and bruised woman whimper as she rolled from side to side as he himself reached for his belt.

"Don't do that." Tom surprisingly spoke up as the other two continued to rain kicks upon the now unmoving elven man.

Dagen scoffed. "What!? Getting soft on me are you!?" He unbuckled his belt and arched an eyebrow at Tom. "Didn't protest when we jumped that babe back at the village, then again you sort of had a thing for her..."

Oddly enough the man grimaced at the words. _Guilt_? _Damn_..._better_ _get_ _him_ _drunk_ _again_, _that_ _usually_ _helps_. "Yeah...but you know, that's one of those wild elves, don't know what diseased they have."

"Ugh..." Dagen shuddered in disgust, eyeing the sickly thin little creature covered in her own blood with a grimace. "...you're probably right. These things are worse then the ones in the city after all." He shrugged and buckled his belt again. "Oh well, guess we'd better do the humane thing and put her down then." He reached for her dropped bow and quiver.

He wasn't all that familiar with a bow, having never hunted...but it wasn't too difficult...and the elven bow was small enough to easily use anyway. Grinning he drew the arrow back as he looked down at the woman that now lay on her back.

Her blue eyes shone through the black crust of her own blood, shone with pain and unspoken accusations.

Dagen hesitated.

_No, it's just an elf_.

A growl and he released the arrow, sending it thudding into the face of the woman, square into her forehead, smashing through bones and brain alike.

Dagen suddenly couldn't breathe.

Only stare, at the corpse before him, the dead _woman_. He'd never killed before, he had _never_ gone that far...yet here he was...a killer.

The anger rushed out of him..._just_ _an_ _elf_...only to surge back into his veins with renewed strength. _Filthy cow shouldn't have tried to kill me_! Picking up another arrow he moved over towards where Marshal and Lars had stopped kicking the man, both staring at him. "What are you looking at!? Step aside and let me finish this animal off!"

"Erm..." Lars muttered, stepping aside. "...I don't think you have to..." He gestured for the man...unmoving and covered in his own blood, his left ear partly shorn off and unseeing eyes staring up at the sky.

"Oh..." Dagen, let the arrow drop to the ground as he stared down at the dead elf. _Another_ _one_...

Guilt.

The group stood there, silent, unmoving, all waiting for something...anything to happen.

Nothing did though, no divine wrath, no spirits haunting them. Nothing had changed.

Dagen felt himself smile, drawing upon the sudden feeling of victory as much as the feel of his frustration having been expended. "Well that wasn't too hard was it?"

Nervous chuckles from the others, recovering from their shock. "Heck, we could make a living out of this." Lars suggested with another chuckle.

"Not a bad idea actually." Dagen laughed, hearing the others laugh with him.

It was a release, calming, soothing, telling them that everything would be okay, that they would live, _thrive_! That they were powerful, and as such in the right!

Then there was a cry of rage.

And Dagen saw Tom fall to his knees, the tip of an arrow sticking through his chest.

_What_?

He blinked.

And then Lars and Marshal fell, the former with an arrow sticking out from his eye-socket, the later with three arrows sticking out from his back.

_No_!

He screamed, fear rushing through him, making his hands shake as he reached for the arrow he had dropped onto the ground.

Then darkness took him.

8

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8

Edhan shook his head, throat tight as he stared at the scene before him. At age sixty he had aged with dignity so far, his hair was still a solid thick brown and tied into a braid, his grey eyes still as sharp as ever.

Yet now...he felt old.

The tribe had gathered in the small clearing, all staring in shock and horror at what had transpired. The four shemlen dead had already been dragged off by some of the hunters, to be skinned and offered to the wolves, but the two elves remained where they had been found...none daring to touch them.

Ywain...the boy nearly a man, one Edhan had hopped would take over as keeper one day...dead, his head nearly crushed. He would no longer tell the children any of the tales he made up on the spot, no longer would he try to hid away morsels of elfroot for the halla since he loved feeding them the delicacy, no longer would he probe Edhan for the secrets of magic...

_I should have taught him some, so what if he hadn't been ready yet, it could have saved the two_...

Ethenia...the girl nearly a woman, a huntress in the making...her own arrow still sticking out of her head, as if it wasn't enough for the humans to kill her, but also to taunt her. She would no longer tease Ywain with surprisingly dirty smiles only to run away, no longer would she drive her mother mad with her love of climbing the trees, no longer would she assist the hunters in scaring away the wolves from the camp...

_Should have been more strict on them, not let them hide away like this_...

_Old_...yes...Edhan felt old.

Both children's parents were sitting on their knees before their offspring, heads bowed, nothing but low sobs escaping them, still unable to look at them, to truly accept they were dead.

The rest of the tribe had their heads bowed as well, a mere forty in numbers every member of the tribe knew each other well...and both dead was a dear friend to each one of them.

Friendships now cut short.

Mehlalin sighed, the master hunter of the tribe standing next to Edhan, the woman was tall for both an elf and a woman, an inch taller than the keeper even. Her burning red hair was cut short, exposing thin but long ears that once had elicited teasing when she'd been younger...but now was a mark of honour for the woman that had reached her post at the mere age of twenty. The icy blue eyes flanking her small nose were narrowed in anger. "This cannot be allowed."

"A conflict would be...dangerous." Edhan sighed, already knowing how the conversation would play out.

"Dangerous but necessary, we can't let this go unpunished." Mehlalin growled, her hands clenching the bow in her hands so tightly the wood creaked. "They cut down the trees, we allow it. They hunt the wolves, agitating them, we allow it. They attack our people...that _cannot_ be allowed. Too long that village has acted with arrogance towards us, no more."

_I know_... "Revenge usually doesn't help in the end..."

"The gods demand vengeance for this! Our honour demands it!" Mehlalin hissed, her face going pale as she looked over at Ethenia. Mehlalin had been the girl's mentor, teaching her everything there was to know about hunting. And now...it was gone. Edhan knew how she felt, his gaze lingering on Ywain. Not only had they lost two members of the family...but two they both in part considered their own children. "We cannot let this go! We cannot leave until this is settled!"

Edhan felt his heart sink, but what was there to do? Mehlalin was right, and even though age had tempered his own anger the keeper knew his duty demanded him to answer such a blatant blow aimed at the Dalish. "I...agree. Though it saddens me we must answer such a challenge such as this..." He lowered his head, shaking it in weariness._ That I had to live to see this_..._foolish children, foolish shemlen_...

"Their leader is gone, his men too, I heard this from one the hunters in the north." Mehlalin turned to stare at Edhan, who didn't have the strength to look back. "They have no one to defend themselves! I think we should strike _now_!"

Edhan closed his eyes, regret tearing at him. _This will not help_..._yet_...he looked over at two dead, his children in all but blood. _The shemlen must be taught again_..._but_ _they_ _never_ _learn_..._damn_ _them_.

"Very well, burn the village."

8

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8

_As always, a thank you goes to Abydos Jackson for all her help._


End file.
